


Dame Céleste

by WarriorNun



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996) Fusion, Bottom Jack, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Human Guardians of Childhood, Jack Frost and Pitch Black as Allies, M/M, Multi, Rise of the Guardians (2012) References, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Bunnymund, Top Pitch Black (Gaurdians of Childhood)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 15:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5132882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarriorNun/pseuds/WarriorNun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dame Céleste, the grand temple of Lunanoff. Well known for the sounds of her beautiful bells. But never wonder who rang them? High up in the bell tower lives in the mysterious Bell Ringer. They say he was a demon confined to the temple...some say he was an angel...others a spirit. However, the truth is stranger than it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dame Céleste

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Challenge Fanfic prompted by PolidL though I might be deviating from it to make it my own story. I've been actually thinking about writing this for a while so what better way to pick it up for NaNoWriMo? I'm also going to work on Flicker as well, so look forward to them!

If there was anything to describe the city of Lunanoff was ethereal. 

It was a grand city that somehow gave of a glow every night, rivaling the light of the stars, even the moon itself. Rich in culture and always bustling with life day after day, what stood out was the highlight of their city…the temple that was known as Dame Céleste.

It was a beautiful temple that truly lived up to her name as she stands before the city like an exquisite queen. Standing tall and strong in gray stone, adorned with flying buttresses and gargoyles that watched over the city, perched upon the highest spots of the balcony. The one of the best features of Dame Céleste was the gorgeous multi-colored stained glass windows, each one showcasing intricate designs of various shapes and colors. The best time to admire them was from the inside when the sun was shining bright, illuminating the darkness of the temple with its vibrant splendor. 

There were also the bells. 

The very sound of them was just as beautiful as the stained glass windows. From being loud as thunder to being soft as a psalm, the city awake every morning by the very sound of the temple’s bells. It doesn’t matter who have heard them, from the common folk such as the fishermen and bakers to the rich. Each citizen always found the time to appreciate the sweet sounds of Dame Céleste. 

However…no one knew who actually ring the said bells. 

Of course, it was common knowledge that the bells never rung themselves. Among the adults that is, the children always have an active imagination. But there are rumors that there was a sole man who rung the bells by himself, and yet he rarely stepped out of the temple. Some think of him as some sort of monster that was confined to the temple…others say he was a spirit or an angel. Either way, no one, but those who tend to the temple had ever seen his face. 

They say if you look closely, the best as you can, you can see the fabled Bell-Ringer staring down at the people below. 

Perhaps…even staring down at you…

-

A thoughtful hum escaped from his thin lips as he tried to make heads or tails of the map that he was holding in his hands before comparing it to the cityscape before him. After a moment of observing, Kozmotis let out a sigh of frustration before crumbling up the map that he was holding. 

“Away from the city for a few or so years, and everything changed.” He muttered to his trusty horse, Onyx. 

The black mare let out a soft reassuring neigh as she nuzzled against her master, earning a smile from the man before looking around. The city of Lunanoff certainly has definitely changed since he was dispatched for the war those years ago. The buildings seemed taller than he remembered to the point that he wasn’t able to see the sky and some shops that he used to pass by or shop at were either replaced or closed. Not only that, there seemed to be more people the last time he had been here. But those are secondary compared to him. It was hard to leave his little girl all alone however he was lucky to have Typhan as her godfather and current guardian to watch over her while he was away. The letters have helped but there was so much they could do to ease his homesickness as well as Emily Jane’s worry. 

Well, no use of standing around. 

Kozmotis looked around of the street, hoping to find at least one person that wasn’t too busy. His silver-golden eyes lit up at the sight of what seemed to be two guardsmen judging by their silver uniforms, no doubt soldiers. 

“Pardon me, gentlemen,” he called out politely. “I was hoping if you could direct me to the Palace of Justice…”

However, the two soldiers didn’t paid any mind to him, they both continued on their way as if he wasn’t there at all. Kozmotis frowned at this, almost had the urge to pout but he has enough self-respect on not to do that in public. 

“Manners had been scarce lately…” He muttered sarcastically to Onyx before leading her down the street. 

_It would seem that we’re on our own on this one_. It was the first thing he thought to himself, feeling slightly irritated. At this rate, he would be late for his meeting with the judge. On the other hand, it would give him the chance to familiarize himself with the city once again. It would be better than following an outdated map. 

So, that was a silver lining, right?

He took his time to walk leisurely alongside with his horse, taking in the sights. There are more streets than he remembered, and quite bigger as well. The familiar shops seemed to be updated, that was a bonus. As he walked along, Kozmotis’ ears perked up a familiar cheery tune of the jingling beats of a tambourine and what seemed to be a uniquely sounding flute. He was instantly drawn in, mostly by curiosity as a mother and daughter pass by him. He momentarily took note that the girl tried to go closer to the performers that stood before a ragged purple hat that served a makeshift offering plate as it was filled with several gold coins. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to go near them when her mother pulled her back. 

“Stay away from them, child!” She scolded, keeping a firm grip on the girl’s hand. “They’re gypsies. They’ll steal us blind!”

Kozmotis frowned at the way she said the word “gypsies”. It was almost as if she was describing something disgusting. He had no idea why people had to be appalled by someone-much less a race- that was different from them. Never suiting to a status quo, it was rather backwards in logic if you ask him. Not to mention a terrible way to teach children growing up. 

Nevertheless, he would be a better man and had to place goodwill, even if it was small. He took out a handful of coins and placed them in the hat. When he looked up, Kozmotis’ mind immediately became blank as he takes a good look at the tambourine player. 

The said player is a young man, probably between adolescence and late teens if his mental math was correct. His skin was pale, as if he hadn’t been in the sun for a long time but not to the point of being sickly. While lean in physique, there was a hint of muscle thanks to his rather risqué (for a better lack of phrasing) manner of attire, which consists of a simple blue vest and a pair of brown slacks that seemed to be reinforced with leather straps of a darker shade, accented with what seemed like a blue gossamer wrap around his waist. He also noticed that he was completely barefoot as he made a small spin upon the cobblestone street. 

The two things that drew his attention were his eyes and hair. 

His hair was stark white, seemingly silver thanks to the right timing of the sun as it stuck out in a slightly messy manner. And then there were his eyes, the most striking blue that he had ever seen. The very color of them reminded him of ice on a winter day. They seemed to shine with mischief as they gaze upon him. Somehow, on the back of his mind, he knew he had seen them somewhere. 

The boy seemed to share the same thoughts as he gave him a coy smile and continued his street performance. Unfortunately for them, it wasn’t meant to last. The shrill sound of someone whistling made him look up just in time to see a small child sprinting off from a wall. Kozmotis narrowed his eyes in confusion before noticing the look of horror on the youth’s face. The flute player ushered him to follow before running off down the street, making the Gypsy Boy to follow but stopped for a moment to collect their earnings.

He was about to follow suit to his companion, only to be stopped short by two guardsmen. The Gypsy Boy scowled as he glared up at them, since he was more or less kneeling on the ground and his exit was blocked. He held his earnings close to his chest as if it was the only way to protect them. 

“Alright, Gypsy, where’d you get the money?” One of them questioned in an accusing tone as he roughly grabbed him and hoisted him up on his feet. The Gypsy Boy scowled at the accusation before pulling his arm away from him. 

“For your information, I earned it!” he protested.

The Guard sneered at this as he placed he crossed his arms over his chest. “Gypsies like you DON’T earn money.” He spoke in a rather condescending tone which made the younger boy glare up at him in defiance. The other guard took this opportunity to grab his shoulders from behind, boxing him in. 

“More like stealing,” he grunted. 

Kozmotis narrowed his eyes at the scene that played before him. It was only a mere glance but when he walked up to the hat, there were only at least several coins, counting his share of the tribulation. That meant the Gypsy Boy and his companion must have performed their hardest to earn their keep. Were all guards like this while he was away? Where was their superior? 

Either way, home or battlefield, he wouldn’t let this go unpunished.

Just when he was about to step on, a sarcastic laugh was heard as the Gypsy Boy glared at the second guard. “You know a lot about stealing? Did you get kicked out of a thief’s guild and had to join up a backwaters job like this?” 

_He’s a feisty one..._ was the first thing that ran through his mind. 

“You little shit!” One of the guards cursed, raising his fist to punch him. However, he wasn’t able to land a hit on the youth when the white-haired gypsy used his partner’s grip as leverage to kick him on the chin before performing a backwards headbutt on the said guard. This loosened the grip on his shoulders and he instantly made a bolt down the other path, running past Kozmotis.  
It could be from just his perspective, but in a moment, he could have sworn that the younger man gave him a smile and a wink when time slowed down before speeding up again. Kozmotis watched him for a moment before being brought back to reality by an angry shout. 

“COME BACK HERE, GYPSY!” 

Thinking quickly, Kozmotis pulled Onyx’s reigns forward, making it look like he was moving his horse in order to slow down the guards. Luckily for him, one of them managed to run into hindquarters and fell face first into a mud puddle. 

But he wasn’t finished with him yet. Oh, no, he had one more task to complete.

“Onyx, sit.”

And with that command, Onyx immediately sat upon the guard’s back and slammed him back facefirst into the mud. Kozmotis had to hold back the urge to laugh at the sight, all the while placing up an innocent act as the citizens around them couldn’t help but laugh at the spectacle. 

“Oh, my apologies, good sir,” He spoke in a feigned apologetic tone before turning to Onyx with a faux scolding look. “You naughty horse, naughty! She’s impossible this old girl, I cannot do anything about it.” Onyx let out a snort at this but if she were human, she would be smirking. 

Kozmotis glanced from the corner of his eye to see a mop of white hair from a street corner before disappearing from view, just in time for him to take notice of the guard’s partner scowling as he reached for his dagger. 

“I’ll teach you a lesson, you filthy peasant!” He growled, brandishing the dagger. 

Well, play time was over pretty quick. Now time to get serious. He reached underneath his cape and pulled out his own weapon in return. It was a wicked looking sidearm which consists of a combination of a scythe and an a battle-axe that was forged from what seemed to be black metal, both ends of the blade shone in a deadly manner by the light of the sun as Kozmotis twirled it around before stabbing the scythe end to the ground, which left behind an impressive crack against the tiled ground. 

“You were saying…” Then he gave the other man his trademark smirk which sends shivers down the enemy’s spine. “…Lieutenant?”

Kozmotis mentally laughed as realization dawned upon the guard, alternating his gaze from him to his knife while blubbering rather pathetically. “C-Captain…!” Then he quickly saluted which earned him an unintentional banging of the dagger against his helmet, making him wince in pain and drop his weapon. The guard immediately straightened up, rather stiffly he noted, and resumed the salute once more.  
“At your service, sir!” His tone was changed from arrogant and condescending to respectful and militant. Although Kozmotis have a sixth sense of sensing fear, be it from his own troops or the enemy. Regardless, he would deal with those two later. He had to take care of something first as soon as he lifted his weapon from the ground, coming out remarkably unchipped from the gravel. 

He walked over to the downed guard who tried to lift up with Onyx’s weight but with no avail, only to get muddier than before. If anything, the black mare seemed to be placing her weight down more. It could be his imagination but Kozmotis briefly noted the way that he stiffened as he drew closer. Might be the fact that he was still brandishing his weapon but that was beside the point. 

At least he got his attention.

“I know that you have your hands full at the moment…but if you don’t mind, the Palace of Justice?”

-

“Make way for the Captain!”

“Go on now, make way!”

“Make way~!”

Kozmotis fought the urge to facepalm himself and groan as he followed the two low-ranked men down the direction which would hopefully lead him to his destination, all the while creating a path as the people part like the Red Seas, staring at him with either awe or curiosity. Sure the welcome was nice and all, but really this is too much, even for him. Nevertheless he had to keep face, even though the groveling was rather uncomfortable. 

He stopped short when he noticed some gold coins that were left lying around and gathered them up. That is when he took note of a hooded beggar by the street corner. The face was obscured from view thanks to the ragged black cloak which covered him (he was assuming was male) from head to toe. However, what caught his eye was the particular hat by the beggar’s feet. 

It was the same ragged hat that was owned by that Gypsy Boy. 

Unlike before, it only held at least a few coins. 

Kozmotis then stared down at the coins in his gloved hand. They must have fallen out while he was escaping. Why he stayed out in the open despite the flimsy disguise, he would never know. But then again, with the guards up ahead, who are still commanding the people to make way for him…it might not be such a good idea. 

Nevertheless, it wouldn’t hurt to help him once more. 

Kozmotis made a casual show of walking by the beggar, discreetly placing the gold coins and head on his way. He heard Onyx let out a soft neigh as she nudged him with her muzzle. He let out a chuckle was he patted her neck lovingly. 

“I had no idea what you’re referring to, Onyx.” He spoke. “Just trying to be a Good Samaritan, that’s all.”


End file.
